Thèmes
by frl.baroque
Summary: To be a collection of loosely song-based oneshots. Chapter one: Cosmic Castaway-"He climbed back into the ship feeling desolate and, for the first time in years, lonely. Involuntarily his thoughts wandered to Arthur." USUK


**A/N: **This will be a compilation of different loosely song-based oneshots.

So after re-watching the movie "Titan A.E." for the first time in years, I came up with a lovely idea for a parody (it is currently in the works). This is a sort of offshoot of that but since I'm posting it first take it as you will. No, you don't have to have seen the movie to understand it. In fact it only has vague references. Enjoy the sci-finess.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia, Titan A.E., or Cosmic Castaway

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><p>"Cosmic Castaway"—USA<p>

_Lose my head to the chemical freeway, c__omin' up on overload._

_In a mystic new dimension, __purify and sanctify me._

_What? So I'm in no end game, _

_Move my piece right off the board._

_Losing sure is easy, so I am no more._

One shot left. Alfred adjusted his aim, muttering a quick prayer before firing. None left, and he was seriously outnumbered. Sweat trickled down the back of his neck. The ship jolted as the enemy returned fire. Well that was a few days' worth of repairs. He cursed and resettled his glasses. He'd used up all the favours owed him; no one was going to bail him out this time. An appropriately alien face appeared on the monitor to his left.

"You're out, Jones, give it up."

_But I'm not broken, i__n my dream I win._

_In here I'm nothing, a__ cosmic castaway._

There was no chance in Hell he'd surrender. The ship rocked again and he winced. Giving the controls a pat as if to rally his vehicle's support, Alfred replied,

"You wish." The face on the screen sighed in resignation and blinked out of sight. The blond grinned cheekily but faltered as he glimpsed the enemy ship charging a photon cannon. "Oh shit." Without waiting to see if the alien was bluffing, he wheeled his ship about and gave it everything he had.

_In my head I'm a chemical dreamer, s__peed up to burnout mode._

_Comin' up on the fifth dimension, b__eautify don't crucify me._

_Yeah, so I need no mind game p__oisoning my lonely soul,_

_Losing sure is easy, so I am no more_

The chase had left him mentally and emotionally drained. Having docked at a relatively well-patrolled Drifter colony, Alfred wasted no time in gathering repair materials. If there was one thing he hated, it was being stranded for any amount of time. The Drifter colonies might have been teeming with American citizens but they only served to remind Alfred of what he had lost. Only the vast unexplored reaches of the galaxy allowed him to feel truly free.

He didn't want to think about the damage his left engine had sustained, but he steeled himself and peeked through the gaping hole in the covering. Frustration and hopelessness fought for dominance over his emotions. It would be months before he could find another radiation filter large enough to support his system. He climbed back into the ship feeling desolate and, for the first time in years, lonely. Involuntarily his thoughts wandered to Arthur. He'd heard rumours the former-island-nation was in the trade business though they hadn't spoken since…. Maybe it was time to start. He rummaged through the drawers in his cramped sleeping quarters in search of the number he'd filched from a rather sketchy alien after a similar bout of depression. Ah, there it was. Crumpled and faded, the digits were hardly legible and he felt despair creeping up in his throat. He dialled hoping he would have the courage to speak if the line picked up. It did and a familiar face popped into his field of vision.

"Kirkland," Arthur muttered, a frown gracing his features as he answered the uknown caller. In his business, most customers preferred to contact him via proxy.

"Yeah, I know." Alfred smiled sheepishly as Arthur spluttered. "How ya been, Artie?" Upon seeing his friend, all of his anxiety had vanished. Well, almost all of it. He saw Arthur reach for something off the screen. "Don't hang up!" The older blond paused and looked up, he suddenly seemed worn and tired.

"A-Alfred," he stumbled over the name but cleared his throat and composed himself, "if you are calling for business then we may have something to discuss. If this is your idea of a joke, your sense of humour has soured." Alfred relaxed back into his chair and gave Arthur an easy smile.

"Good thing that scumbag Vilfiris gave me a run for my money then, 'cuz boy do we need to talk." Arthur looked as if he might have been hiding a smirk. He launched straight to work, and when Alfred told him what it was exactly that he needed he didn't bat an eye and asked for three times the value of the piece. "Christ, Arthur, do I look that easy?"

"Hmm. What happened to your superpowers? You used to fling money around as if it were confetti." Deciding this was not a conversation to have face to screen, Alfred switched subjects.

"Hold that thought. We need to settle this in person." He did not mean the filter. "Where can I find you?" Arthur heaved a sigh.

"Don't bother, I'll find you." And the line clicked off.

_But I'm not broken, i__n my dream I win._

_And I'll take over '__Coz I'm no loser_

_And I'm in but you're not, b__ad dreams don't stop._

'_Coz I'm all screwed up, a__ cosmic castaway, yeah…_

He had not been expecting to see Arthur so soon. It had only been two days ago they'd spoken; and now he was cradling his aching head after the man had startled him so badly he'd bolted upright and into the engine above. He cracked one eye open to see Arthur's upside-down figure watching him with a closed expression.

"Do I get a discount now that you've injured me?" A sly hand slid shut the port and Arthur offered that same hand to pull Alfred to his feet. Their proximity was giving the younger blond a heady buzz of adrenaline. Abandoning caution, he flung his arms about his visiter. "Sorry, I didn't know if you knew too and just weren't up to this whole sappy reunion shit." Arthur returned the embrace half-heartedly. "Shit," Alfred repeated. "You're gonna take off after this is done, aren't you?" He was surprised to find tears streaking his face.

"Well, not like that, no." Arthur forced a small smile but it faded before it could manage to reassure either castaway. "I…I just don't know how well things would get on without," his voice broke, "without all the walls I've built up." Alfred refused to let go when Arthur tried to pull away.

"Hey, no worries. I'm real good at building things." Arthur choked back a laugh that was partially sob. "Whoa, whoa, no. We are not going to bawl our eyes out like a bunch of sorry losers." But he could not stay the fresh tears that blurred his vision.

"Yes, you're doing a bang up job of that all by yourself." Arthur gasped for air between a fit of laughter and crying. "Damn, now you've got me going too." They both sank to the floor, the older blond finally returning the hug as if Alfred were a rope keeping him from drowning. "Your bloody filter caused me a lot of grief, you know." Alfred shifted against the irregularly shaped metal digging into his side.

"Yeah?" He leant forward and kissed Arthur fiercely. "Sorry about that," was his breathless apology. The other man stood almost reluctantly.

"Alfred, I can't do this." He raised a hand to cut off Alfred's protests. "I've moved on, we both have. And I've got a business to run." He took a shuddering breath and continued. "It took me years to get where I am, I don't want to start over." He was not talking about his business, Alfred knew.

"I know. It was my Earth too." He stood and readjusted his glasses. "You can't just make your transaction and act like this never happened. We _need_ each other, Arthur. I'm so sick of being alone all the time. I can't stand it!" Alfred slammed a fist into the engine he'd just finished fixing. "Maybe if I have something—_someone_—to live for, I won't keep pressing my luck pissing off every alien bigshot who thinks he's got the human race to use as his plaything. And I hate myself for being so petty as to hope someday one of them will get the best of me 'cuz I've got nothing left to lose but now I _do _ have something." He scrabbled for Arthur's hand as the other made to quit the ship. "Oh, God. Please don't leave."Arthur frowned at him.

"Get off of me, I'm just going to grab the radiation filter." Hesitantly, Alfred released his hand.

"Don't think that for all you've said you're able to just up and leave. I know you, Arthur. And I know you're still just as lost as I am. You may have a job, three hot meals a day, and a bed to sleep in at night but that's not really living." Arthur did not look back as he stepped through the door.

Alfred bit his lip. He wasn't sure what he would do if Arthur had decided to take off, but it certainly wouldn't be pretty. Every nerve in his body was charged with the fortified knowledge that he was not alone. He did not want to loose that thrill.

"Help me with this, would you?" His heart leapt into his throat.

"S-sure." Arthur just looked at him as if he were a loon. He altered his grip on the uncooperative two metre diameter circle to allow Alfred to help him manoeuvre it through the narrow door. "So…how much do I owe you?" Arthur inspected their handiwork silently. In truth, he was impressed with Alfred's modifications. He bit his lip, mulling over the consequences of staying. His head was telling him no. Not a chance in Hell. But his heart was screaming at him to at least give it a try.

"A cup of tea." Alfred raised a confused eyebrow. "That's what you owe me. One cup of tea." Arthur inwardly commended himself on this answer.

"I heard you the first time."He shook his head. "There hasn't been any tea in years…not that I've looked for it," he added sullenly. Suddenly, a smile crept onto Alfred's face as he realised what Arthur was trying to tell him. "You sly bastard. Why can't you just admit it? You lost your 'I'm not ready to face the reality of our home blowing up' front after hearing my sad confession of failed suicide attempts." He blew his hair from his eyes. "I guess we've both always cared a little too much." Arthur did not break his stoic expression.

"Say what you will, but I can't let you get away with such a steep debt." He allowed his lips to twitch upward. "You didn't honestly think I would let you get away did you? Why do you think I came here myself?" Alfred let out the breath he hadn't realised he had been holding. "I was so scared you would decide to move on after we spoke," Arthur whispered. "Looks like you're stuck with me."

_And I want but have not, b__ad dreams, lost thoughts._

_In here with no pain, y__ou hurt me again._

_And I want but have none, __I should beat the alien._

_But here I'm no one, a cosmic castaway, yeah…_

Alfred woke with a start, groaning into his arms as he came back to reality. It hadn't happened. He and Arthur hadn't spoken, his ship was barely running and the force of Vilfiris' photon cannon had knocked him out. Too bad the headache he'd had in the dream was real. The ship reeled sideways and he was thrown across the floor. Damn. He hauled himself into his chair with some difficulty.

"Come on, babe. Don't give out on me." The stabalisers weren't functioning and the course was starting to become more of a spiral than was comforting. "Oh, great." Growing faintly nauseous with the dizzying motion, he stumbled over to the manual operating panel at the ship's rear. "Just stop this rocking and spinning nonsense," he muttered, punching a few buttons and hoping for the best. Nothing. His stomach was twisting itself into knots. He really thought he'd gotten over this. "What do you want me to do?" In a vain attempt to right his ship he kicked the sideboard. Something at the controls crackled and went silent. He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against the cool metal of the wall, wishing very hard. "I just want my damn life back."

Eventually the ship's right engine stalled and the spiral turned into a point. Stranded. Great, well at least he didn't feel like he was about to lose his lunch all over the important non-functioning wires anymore. Exhausted from his efforts and his earlier endeavours, he staggered to his room and collapsed on the bed. He jolted upright moments later. He still had that number. It was buried somewhere in his pants' pocket. Now he only hoped his communication lines were running. He salvaged the paper from a discarded pair of jeans and dialled.

"Kirkland," Arthur muttered, a frown gracing his features as he answered the uknown caller. In his business, most customers preferred to contact him via proxy.

"Yeah, I know."

_A cosmic castaway…._

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><p>So, who caught the vague half-reference to the HitchHiker's Guide to the Galaxy? ...it was the tea.<p>

**Explanation:** In "The Restaurant at the End of the Universe", Arthur (ironically enough) Dent almost fries the computer of the most advanced ship in the Universe after asking it to make tea. Stuff just doesn't exist in space. :( I don't envy them one bit.

Also, I'm sorry for those of you who find the ending a cop out. I just read Hakuku's Stumbleine (If you're a USUK fan you should look it up if you haven't already) which got me thinking in the dream sequence and the whole repeat scene worked well with the lyrics.


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